The Guardian
by uh-non-uh-muhs
Summary: When a car accident leaves Eddy Garrett deaf and paralyzed from the neck down, she thinks her life as an aspiring artist is over. But soon mysterious letters begin to arrive. Messages of encouragement that are signed 'A Friend'. As the letters continue, Eddy finds herself pulled into something deeper than friendship. That is, until a flesh and blood man changes everything.
1. The Accident

It was pouring. At some point during the night, the storm had settled over Beaumont and the city was drenched. It made the early morning commute even less pleasant than usual. Eddy tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, as she waited at a red light. Her car was idling loudly, a sure sign that something was planning to go out on the old truck. Another expense to stretch her miniscule student income.

The light ahead of her turned green and she eased off the brake to gently press the accelerator. The old Chevy hiccupped before it rolled out into the intersection. The song on the radio ended and the station aired an advertisement for a nearby tanning salon. Eddy caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eye.

With a blaring horn, the grill of a truck slammed into the driver's side door. Metal screeched and Eddy was vaguely aware of pain in her left side, before she began to lose time. She blinked and her door was gone. Another blink and the car was tumbling. Over and over, the view from her missing door was sky and then pavement and then finally grass.

When she opened her eyes again, she was hanging from the seatbelt. She could see her left arm laying limply across the grass that was pressed up against where her door used to be. There were noises, but none of them made sense. Her left ear was ringing, but she thought she could hear muffled noises with the other. She blinked again.

Someone was speaking to her, close to her right ear. She could not turn her head, but she could feel their breath against her face, warm and smelling vaguely of mint. They did something to her seatbelt that caused her body to lurch to the left. The voice continued to speak to her, even as they hefted her upwards, toward the passenger door. Something warm dripped into her eyes and she blinked.

The gray sky was above her when she opened her eyes again. She could see shadows standing around her, buzzing with noise like a hive of bees. One of them broke away from the rest and a black umbrella blocked out the rain. Eddy blinked.

Two people leaned over her, a man and a woman, in matching uniforms. The man was speaking, but all she could hear was the ringing and the buzzing. A coldness began to creep in on her. It was soothing. She blinked.

The ceiling above her was white and almost glowed in the sunlight. Eddy stared at it in confusion. It was not the ceiling in her dorm room or Carmen's apartment. She slowly rolled her head to the side to look toward the source of light. A large window in a plain white wall. As her eyes scanned what she could see of the room, she realized it was a hospital room. All at once, the situation hit her.

She had been in an accident. The truck had run the red light and hit her. The Eddy stared up at the ceiling. Her car was probably totaled and she had missed class. The thought had just passed through her mind, when a face appeared over her. Eddy frowned at the woman in confusion when her mouth moved, but only buzzing escaped. The woman vanished from view.

A moment later, she reappeared and held up a pad of paper with a written note.

'Are you in pain?'

Eddy frowned and turned her attention to her body. No, there was no pain. There was nothing. She shook her head.

The nurse took the note away and vanished from view. When she returned, there was a new note.

'Can you hear anything?'

Eddy was not sure if buzzing counted and tried to say as much, only to realize she could not. There was something blocking her from speaking. Her eyes widened and she tried to raise her right arm, only to find it did not move. Neither did her left.

The nurse reached for her, probably trying to calm her, but Eddy could only think of the numbness. Her arms and legs did not work and the thing that kept her from speaking was stretched down her throat. The nurse let her go to fumble with something nearby. She quickly held up another note.

'Please calm down, Edna.'

Eddy forced herself to take deep breaths, trying not to focus on the tube in her throat.

'Do you remember the accident?'

Eddy nodded. Rain, truck, and crunch. She remembered it.

'The accident caused some swelling near your spinal cord.'

Eddy stared at the older woman with wide eyes. She tried to tell herself it was not permanent if it was just swelling. The nurse's next note confirmed her hopes.

'You should regain full use of your limbs when the swelling goes down.'

That was good news, at least.

'Your eardrums were ruptured in the accident.'

Which would explain the buzzing in her right ear and the complete lack of noise in her left. She closed her eyes for a moment, before she nodded. Okay. She could deal with that. It would heal or there would be a surgery. Somehow, it would be okay. She looked at the nurse.

The woman wrote another note and held it in her line of sight. 'You have two cracked ribs on the right side and one on the left, a fractured ulna, and some deep bruising on your left thigh.'

Eddy frowned. She did not doubt the nurse was telling the truth, but it was strange not to feel any of it.

'There are a few people here to see you.'

Eddy raised her eyebrows.

The nurse glanced away, as if she were checking her facts. 'Carmen Garcia and Timothy Harvey.'

Carmen was expected, the woman a friend since freshmen year, but her Art Theory professor was a surprise.

'Would you like to see them for a moment?'

Eddy nodded.

The nurse smiled and turned to fiddle with the machine next to the bed. After a moment, she turned and walked out of sight. Eddy could not hear the door open or close, but a few minutes later two faces appeared in her line of sight. She smiled up at her best friend's pale face.

Carmen held up a sign. It was a little too close to her face, but Eddy could make out the words on the shaking notepad.

'Are you okay?'

Eddy raised her eyebrows.

Carmen's dark eyes searched her face. She quickly ducked her head to scribble something else. When she held up the next note, Eddy wanted to laugh.

'Stupid question, huh?' Carmen accompanied the note with a wry twist of her lips.

Eddy gave her a small smile and shook her head. She moved her gaze to the silent man at Carmen's side.

He held up his own sign. 'I hope you feel better soon.'

Eddy nodded.

Her professor looked down and she assumed he was writing another note. He proved her correct a few seconds later.

'The gallery called today.'

From the art show in Galveston. Eddy nodded.

He held up another note. 'It sold. The gallery has asked permission to show your latest work at their showing next month.'

Eddy's eyes widened. She hurriedly nodded.

Her professor smiled. He held up a note he had obvious prewritten. 'I thought so.'

She smiled.

He slowly lowered the paper and wrote another. 'I will send the details tomorrow. Feel better.'

Eddy nodded and watched him say a few words to Carmen. He gave her another nod, before he walked out of sight. She looked back at Carmen.

'I'm sleeping in the chair,' Carmen's next note said. She raised one eyebrow in challenge.

Eddy returned the expression.

Carmen flipped the paper over. 'Okay?'

Eddy nodded.


	2. The First Letter

She woke the next morning to bright sunlight splashing across her bed. The room was completely silent, as she knew it would be for several weeks. It was part of the information she had gotten the day before.

After Carmen left to grab a cup of coffee from the hospital cafeteria, the doctor had come into the room. He was a stern-faced man in his mid-fifties and his expression did not change the entire time he was in the room. According to the text slideshow he brought up on the TV, her hearing was expected to return to normal in six to eight weeks. Until then, her hearing would be muffled or absent altogether.

Eddy hoped the disconcerting silence would give way to muted noise in the coming weeks. It seemed like a less frightening scenario. As far as her numb body was concerned, there was no definite date when it would recover. As the doctor, Dr. Stevens, had stated of four separate slides, it was completely up to her body how fast the swelling went down. Until then, she was stuck.

Eddy peered out the window at the blue sky beyond. She thought she should be more afraid than she was, probably would be once the gravity of the situation hit her, but it seemed like her mind was as numb as her body. Already she had been through her first sponge bath. It was odd to see the nurse lift her arm and wash it, but feel nothing.

The ventilator tube was the most difficult thing to handle. She knew it was necessary, that she would not be able to breathe without it, but it did not make it any easier to take. She spent hours trying to sleep the night before, jerking awake every time she started to drift off.

Each time, there was the same thing behind her eyelids. The crash. A sound like thunder, flashes of sky, and finally the man who pulled her from the car. She never saw his face, but she had no doubt it was a man. The effortless way he lifted her from the car spoke of the kind of strength that was beyond the average woman's capabilities. And she could remember a faint masculine scent beneath the smell of rain and smoke and hot metal.

Eddy sighed and turned her face away from the window. On the couch along the opposite wall, Carmen still slept. Her dark hair was covering most of her face, several strands in her mouth while she snored. Eddy did not have to be able to hear to know the thunderous racket the other woman made when she slept. She smirked to herself.

As she started to look away, a flash of color caught her eye from the bedside table. Eddy blinked at the plain white vase and single yellow flower, before her eyes moved to the envelope and package lying beside it. The package was flat and thin, probably a book of some kind. The envelope was made of some thick material in a cream color. There was no name on it.

She hummed thoughtfully. The sound, silent to her, was enough to wake Carmen from her slumber. The other woman's brown eyes popped open and she sat up quickly. Eddy read her name on her friend's lips and smiled as best she could. Carmen hurried up from the couch and crossed the room to her side. She snatched the notebook from the edge of the bed and jotted down a quick note.

'Are you okay?'

Eddy nodded and then moved her eyes to the bedside table. Carmen followed her gaze. She frowned in obvious confusion.

'What's that?' she wrote.

Eddy raised her eyebrows and tried to look puzzled.

Carmen nodded and wrote another note. 'Want to open it?'

Eddy considered it for a moment and nodded.

'Package first?'

She shook her head. It was rude to not read the card, or in the current case letter, first.

Carmen visibly sighed and mouthed, 'No fun.'

Eddy raised one eyebrow.

'Spoilsport,' Carmen flashed, before she reached for the envelope.

Eddy grunted to get her attention and pinned her with a stern glare.

'Don't tear it, right?' Carmen wrote.

Eddy nodded.

Her friend carefully lifted the flap of the envelope and extracted a folded piece of paper. It was the same thick, quality paper as the envelope. Carmen glanced from her to the letter and moved closer to the bed. She set it down to write a note.

'I'll hold it up for you.'

Eddy nodded.

Carmen dropped the notepad on the edge of the bed and held up the letter for her to read.

Eddy immediately raised her eyebrows once she started reading.

'Dearest Edna', it said.

No one called her Edna. It was her grandmother's name and no one had called her that since her parents died. Everyone called her 'Eddy'. Foster parents, teachers, friends. Everyone. She almost turned her face away at the sight of her name, but something kept her reading. Curiosity, maybe. A need to know what clueless person had chosen to write her with the name she despised. She wrinkled her nose, but kept reading.

'It saddens me to see you in such a state, but I know you are strong and will recover well.'

Eddy squinted at the letter. The language was odd, strangely stilted and formal. She was sure she did not know anyone who spoke or wrote that way. She continued reading with a frown.

'I hope this letter finds you in good spirits, despite current difficulties. If it does not upset you, I would feel privileged to continue writing to you. In the spirit of new friendship, please accept a small gift. From me to you.'

Eddy glanced at the package on the table. It was a gift from the stranger, then. She eyed it and returned her gaze to the letter.

'The flower is a daffodil.'

She paused at the random bit of information, before she moved on.

The letter was signed simply, 'A friend.'

Eddy looked up at Carmen and nodded that she was finished reading. Carmen refolded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope without peeking. She held up the notepad a moment later.

'Package?'

Eddy considered it. It could be anything. The letter had not been threatening, only strange. She nodded her assent.

Carmen carefully opened the brown paper and withdrew a thin book. She turned it so Eddy could read the cover.

The Secret Language of Flowers.

She looked from the book to the flower on the table until Carmen flipped open the book. After a few minutes of flipping through the illustrations, she paused and nodded. The picture showed a field of yellow daffodils just like the one in her vase. Like the letter had stated.

Carmen held the book so she could read the information on the flower.

Eddy scanned the paragraph. Apparently, the flower was a symbol of new beginnings. Fitting if the letter writer intended to continue with the letters. A new friendship. A one way pin pal. Eddy nodded and Carmen closed the book, returning it to the bedside table with the flower and letter.

There was nothing to do but wait. To hear, to feel, and for another letter.


	3. The Second Letter

One week later, another letter came. As with the first, she received a flower. Or rather, several. They were arranged along a thin green stalk, at least two dozen of the little blue blooms. The drooping yellow daffodil in its plain white vase was conspicuously absent. The blue flowers had a similar white vase, but it was slightly thinner than the first. She was not sure it had any significance.

Lying next to the vase was a square package small enough to fit in her palm. She peered at it, feeling interested despite herself. Beside it lay another envelope. For the next hour, she alternated between staring out the window and frowning at the items on her bedside table. Her curiosity had to wait until Carmen stopped by before her first class.

The woman had slept on the couch in her hospital room for the first five days after the accident. It was only Eddy's stern glares that finally moved her back to her own apartment and back to class. Carmen was on a scholarship just like her and she could not afford to let her grades drop. Not even to keep Eddy from thinking. And she was thinking. Too hard, maybe.

The doctor had been by every morning to check on her progress and make assurance. She would recover, the notes always said. She trusted the doctor and the nurses to know what they were talking about, but being trapped inside her own head was starting to get to her.

She found herself thinking about art show she would miss, her classes, the date she was supposed to have with the cute guy who lived in the apartment next to Carmen's. Josh something-or-other. She thought of her totaled car and her insurance premiums and the dust that would gather in her dorm room while she was away. Most of her concerns were silly, but they kept her mind off the truly terrible things.

At night, she worried about her paralysis. She thought about all the things she would never be able to do again if the swelling did not go down or there was more damage than the doctor could see. She thought about being deaf permanently. Never hearing music again, never dancing even if she could hear it.

When she could not sleep, she made a list of everything that would change. Painting was always at the top. If the numbness stayed, she would never hold another paintbrush. Her art would be gone. Not walking she could handle, but not painting would kill her.

Eddy looked at the flowers. She was not sure what type it was, but it was pretty and it added color to the stark white room. She liked it better than the daffodil. The yellow had reminded her of the dandelions in the yard at her first foster home. It was not a memory she enjoyed. She looked toward the window.

When Carmen's face appeared over her, she blinked in surprise. The other woman flashed her a smile and held up the notepad.

'Want to sit up?'

Eddy nodded.

Carmen used the call button to summon a nurse. Together, the two women adjusted the bed and scooted her into a sitting position. Eddy smiled as best she could around the ventilator. Once the nurse left, Carmen looked at the bedside table. She raised her eyebrows and slanted Eddy a questioning look. Eddy nodded. Might as well see what it said.

Carmen carefully opened the envelope and held the letter where Eddy could read it.

'Dearest Edna', the letter began.

Eddy scowled at the name, but continued reading. It was unlikely the greetings were going to change. With no way to contact the writer and no way to communicate even if she could, it was better to let it go. Eddy turned her attention to the rest of the letter.

'I hope this letter finds you well. I cannot tell you the depth of my sorrow for your current situation. With two of your senses taken from you temporarily, I hope you find my gift to be a comfort. I hope it brings you pleasure.'

Eddy gave the package and curious glance. Something to do with her senses. She returned to the letter.

'I am certain a week has greatly improved your health and I am doubly certain your health will continue to improve in leaps and bounds. I must leave this missive here, but know that I keep you in my thoughts and hope only for your well-being. The flower is a blue salvia.'

Like the first letter, it was signed, 'A friend.'

Eddy reread the letter again, before she nodded for Carmen to put it away. She considered the writer's words. They seemed to genuinely care. Seemed, being the operative word. She did not think she had any enemies who would want to taunt her, but it was possible. If that was the case, she would have expected less concern and more mocking. There was nothing rude or upsetting about the letters, so far. Aside from her name. She wrinkled her nose.

Carmen held up the flower book and she realized her friend had been looking for the flower while she was deep in thought. She smiled and read the page with the blue salvia. It was a symbol for good health. Eddy did not want to put too much stock in the letters of a stranger, but she found her eyes drifting to the flower on her bedside table. Admiring it.

'Package?' Carmen asked with the notebook.

Eddy nodded.

Carmen carefully opened the brown paper to reveal a flameless candle. She turned it so Eddy could read the label. Lavender. Eddy assumed it was intended to be soothing. Intended purpose aside, it had always been her favorite scent. Her dorm room always smelled like lavender candles and oil paint. It made her smile. She watched Carmen take it out of the plastic package and set it down. She wrote another note.

'Want it on?'

Eddy nodded.

'Okay. I got to go.' Carmen turned on the candle and watched the flickering light for a moment, before she stood.

Eddy smiled and watched her leave for class. The scent of lavender spread out from the candle quickly. The small light should not have had much of an effect of the overall atmosphere, but it did. It made the hospital room feel a little less impersonal and it made it smell like home.


	4. The Third Letter

She woke up one week later to the sight of another envelope, flower, and package. The package was wide, flat, and rectangular. The orange flower was a marigold. She did not need the letter to tell her. Her mother had kept a garden full of them when she was young. It was her mother's favorite flower. Eddy stared at it long enough for Carmen to arrive. Again, her friend helped the nurse to sit her up in bed. Once they were alone, Carmen held up the letter.

Eddy did not want to analyze her eagerness too closely. She still felt a twinge of annoyance at the sight of her full name, but she ignored it to read what followed.

'Dearest Edna. I hope this letter finds you well. I spent several days pondering the perfect gift for you and believe I have settled on something suitable. It cannot replace the reality, but I aspire to please you nonetheless.'

Eddy looked at the package. She almost wanted to stop reading to open it, but she returned to the letter.

'Your creativity and passion for your art has always been an inspiration to me. I am certain this is true for others. Not many are as naturally gifted as you.'

Eddy had to look away. She was sure her cheeks were growing pink from the uncommon complements. Even as she tried to tell herself the words of an anonymous stranger meant nothing, she felt her eyes drifting back, needing to drink in more of the kind words.

'Until the time comes, I hope my gift brings you some small amount of joy. If I succeed in this, I will consider my work complete.'

The letter was signed, as it always was.

'A friend.'

Eddy read over the letter two more times, before she nodded to Carmen. Even as her friend returned it to the envelope and tucked in into the drawer of the bedside table, she could not pull her eyes away. Someone she had never met cared about her. She was not sure how she felt about it. It could be nothing. Maybe, someone was bored. A fellow art student. She doubted a professor would spend so much time and effort just to trick her into something.

Carmen pulled her out of her thought by unwrapping the plain brown paper around the package. Unlike the first two presents, another box lay beneath the paper. A light blue box with a white satiny bow. Carmen's eyes rose to meet hers. Eddy nodded.

Then other woman untied the slightly flattened bow and lifted the lid. She paused at what lay inside. Eddy wanted to ask what was wrong, but Carmen lifted a piece of paper from the box and held it up. It was about the size of a business card, but the paper looked thick and handmade. In cursive was a note about the gift being sterling silver of the highest quality. The brand name 'Tiffany &amp; Co.' made her blink.

Eddy looked from the card to the tissue paper in the box. She felt an overwhelming need to know what lay in the box. It was something her 'friend' thought she would like and they had obviously spared no expense to give it to her. She kept her eyes fastened on the box, as Carmen spread out the fluffy, white tissue paper and lifted out a picture frame. She was not sure if it was normal for a picture frame to be beautiful.

The silver shown in the sunlight, more like jewelry than something to hold a picture. It was large enough for an 8' x 10' photograph and Eddy started to consider what to put in it, when Carmen turned it face her fully and she saw that it was already occupied. If she had control over her own breathing, she had no doubt she would have gasped.

The letter writer had taken a picture of the art studio at the university. Not the one most people used, but the smaller one that received the best light at midday. It had been her favorite since the day she discovered it her first week at the school two years before. The photographer had caught the room in all its glory. Sunlight splashed through the large windows to fill up the room with a warm golden glow.

Eddy did not realize she was crying until Carmen wiped at her cheeks. She held up a note.

'Are you okay?'

Eddy blinked and another tear escaped. Okay did not begin to cover how elated she felt. She nodded.

'Do you want me to put it on the table?'

Eddy nodded quickly. In sight on the bedside table would be perfect. She was not sure if her letter writing friend knew how much the picture would mean to her, but she had an odd feeling they did. It was encouragement. A reminder of what she was working toward. When the swelling faded and her ears healed, she would be back in the art studio. She could not stop smiling.


	5. The Fourth Letter

She had been in the hospital for three weeks. The night before the tingling in her right hand had resulted in the ability to open and close her hand. Her ventilator had been removed two days before. Speaking was still more painful than a simple nod or shake of the head, but the doctor encouraged her to communicate as much as possible. Whether she could hear herself or not.

When Eddy woke up, she immediately turned her head to look at the bedside table. Sure enough, the carnation was gone. In its place stood a large white flower. All six of its pointed petals curved back from the center of the star-shaped flower. Eddy smiled. The fingers of her right hand twitched with the urge to touch, but that was beyond her current abilities. She turned her attention from the pretty flower to the package that took up most of the table.

It was a large, square box and Eddy wanted nothing more than to open it. Her eyes strayed to the envelope laying on the table beside her picture frame. Still considering, Eddy glanced at the door when it opened. She gave the nurse a small smile.

'What a pretty flower', she wrote on her notepad.

Eddy cleared her sore throat and flinched when she heard nothing but the same buzzing in her ears.

"Yes." Eddy muttered. She hoped it was loud enough to be heard. "Do you know who brings them?"

The nurse paused in the act of taking her pulse to write, 'It's not your friend?'

"Not Carmen, anyway," Eddy answered.

'Oh,' she read from the nurse's lips, before she wrote, 'I'm sorry I don't know.' The nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Eddy's left arm. 'Do you want me to look into it?' she scribbled one-handed on the notepad.

Eddy glanced at the words. "If it's no trouble." She tried to ignore the numbness that kept her from feeling the pressure on her arm.

The nurse finished up the morning ritual and stepped back from the bed. 'Any change?'

"No." Eddy sighed.

'Don't worry. You're making great progress.' She patted Eddy's leg. It might as well have been the bed for how much Eddy felt it.

She forced a smile. "Thanks."

'Do you need anything? Water?'

"Water would be great."

'I'll be right back,' the nurse wrote. She dropped the notepad on the bed.

Eddy nodded. She watched the nurse leave and turned her attention back to her letter and gift. The door opened again and the nurse hurried to the bedside table with a glass of water and a pitcher tucked under the same arm. She retrieved the notepad.

'Do you want a drink, now?' she wrote.

"Yes."

The nurse moved to set down the pitcher on the table only to find there was no room. She reached for the wrapped box.

"I don't need the whole pitcher."

Eddy watched her pull back and give the letter and gift a curious look. She set the pitcher on the floor out of sight and held up a cup. Eddy captured the tip of the straw between her lips and took a few sips.

"Thank you," she murmured when she pulled back.

The nurse gave her a bright smile and wrote, 'You're welcome. Your friend should be here soon, right?'

Eddy nodded. Carmen's first class was less than an hour away. As she thought it, the door opened and Carmen walked into the room. She glanced at Eddy and the nurse.

'Am I interrupting?' she mouthed.

The nurse said something, but her face was turned away and Eddy could not read her lips. She picked up the pitcher. 'Just push the call button if you need anything,' she wrote, before she left the room, closing the door behind her.

Carmen grabbed the abandoned notepad off the bed. 'Another one, huh?'

Eddy followed Carmen's gaze to the gifts on the bedside table. "I guess."

'It's a little weird, right?'

Yes, it was.

'Want me to open the letter for you?' Carmen set down her purse on the chair next to the bed. 'Present's bigger,' she wrote.

Eddy eyed the large box. "Yes."

'How's your throat?' Carmen wrote. She opened the envelope as Eddy answered.

"Feels like I gargled with battery acid."

Carmen held up the letter for her to read. 'Nice imagery,' she mouthed.

Eddy smirked and began to read.

"Dearest Edna. I hope you are in high spirits. I was overjoyed to hear of your progress. You must be so pleased to have your painting hand back."

Eddy paused.

"Did you tell anyone at school about my hand?"

Carmen frowned. 'Was I not supposed to?'

"No, it's fine. I was just wondering."

Carmen gave her a doubtful look, but let it go.

Eddy returned to her reading.

"I know you must be impatient with your rate of recovery, but you are doing so well. Just the thought makes me smile."

Eddy bit back a smile of her own.

"I understand the hospital can get cool at night and I would be truly upset if you were to feel uncomfortable. So, I hope you will accept my gift and that it brings you both warmth and comfort."

Eddy turned her hand enough to rub the letter between her fingers. The paper was as thick and luxurious as she had imagined. She read the last line.

"The flower is a Casablanca Lily."

The letter was signed simply, "A friend."

'Well?'

Eddy tore her eyes away from the neat handwriting to read her friend's note. She tapped the end of the letter to give Carmen permission to read off the flower's name.

Carmen grabbed the flower book from the drawer of the bedside table and began flipping through it. She paused to jot down a note.

'You know, this is actually kind of fun.'

Eddy raised an eyebrow.

'The secret letters, the flowers that magically appear while you're asleep...' Carmen's note trailed off.

A few seconds later, she wrote, 'Got it', and held up the book.

The lily was a symbol of celebration. Eddy smiled. She looked away from the book when Carmen motioned toward the present.

"Hold on."

The remote for the hospital bed lay beneath her fingers. She carefully felt for the correct button and pushed it until she was in a partially reclined position.

"Okay."

Carmen grinned and placed the box on the edge of the bed where Eddy could see it clearly. She removed the rough, brown paper to reveal a white box. Carmen glanced at her.

"Go ahead."

Her friend pulled the lid off the box and set it aside. Both of them looked inside at the same time and Eddy raised her eyebrows. A blanket. She glanced at Carmen and smiled at her perplexed expression.

"It is cool at night," she said.

Carmen's mouth formed the word, "Oh."

Eddy shook her head at her. "Can I feel it?"

Carmen nodded, already pulling it out of the box and unfolding it. On second glance, it was more of a throw than a blanket. The size of a lap quilt. The fabric was the color of the beach after a rainstorm. It reminded her of the Gulf Coast and the feel of sticky sand on her feet. Eddy's thought stuttered to a halt when Carmen draped the blanket across her lap and she felt the material for the first time.

It was the softest thing she had ever felt. One of the few memories she had of her mother was of a worn sweater. Cashmere, her mother had called it. It felt much like the blanket on her lap. She looked over to see Carmen lift a small card from the bottom of the box. She held it up for her to read.

It proclaimed the blanket 100% qiviut wool. In small print, was a short history of the company. It told the tale of the Alaskan musk ox, a rare animal that had been brought back from the brink of extinction. Still small in numbers, the animals were pampered and the wool was made from their shed hair which was gently removed by hand. According to the information, the diamond pattern of the knit blanket across her lap came from a specific cluster of villages on an Alaskan coast.

Carmen held up a note. 'It's gorgeous!'

Eddy nodded. It was beautiful. She stroked the material with the only hand that had any feeling in it. It was perfect.


	6. Author's Note

My updates will be few (and far between) because I am writing two other books. This is a rough draft of a book I plan to write sometime late this year or early next year. If you would like to see some other stuff I've written (that is not a rough draft) feel free to wander over to my website. Which is linked on my profile. :) Hope to see you.


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